


The Doc-droid

by Rae_Saxon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka
Genre: F/M, The Master is lonely and makes bad life decisions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:29:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28933314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae_Saxon/pseuds/Rae_Saxon
Summary: The Master feels alone. The Doctor doesn't care. So he builds himself one that does.
Relationships: Ninth Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who: Scream of the Shalka), Tenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan), The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who), Thirteenth Doctor/The Master (Dhawan)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	The Doc-droid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ravenclaw_Cait](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravenclaw_Cait/gifts).



> I was depressed and these are the results of my attempts to cope. I'm not sure why. It's just... there now.

Once upon a time, during a war so gruesome and chaotic, times so dark and hopeless, even the brightest of souls could crack and the sharpest of minds could, lets say, develop a rather unhealthy coping mechanism – The Doctor had built himself an android.

That android, with a rather lovely beard, a streak of grey hair and stormy eyes, had been his constant companion. Stuck around his TARDIS at all times, while the Doctor paddled through his little bubble of peace, trying to keep out of the war, trying not to stray not too far away from it.

He'd created himself a wonderful little island, with them in the middle, ignoring the waves hungrily devouring all other spots of land on the map.

That android, he'd called Master. That android he'd given his personality, uploaded from the Matrix, hidden deep in the Citadel of Gallifrey.

How he'd done _that_ , the Master had never actually gotten an answer to. He expected there had been quite some murder involved. Every time he meant to ask, he got understandably horny and snogged the Doctor instead.

He'd known about that android, of course.

How could he not, he'd been part of it, had lived in that cold shell of himself, lovingly built from scratch and old spare parts, been a prisoner to countless inhibitions the Doctor had built in. He hadn't been allowed the TARDIS anymore than he'd been allowed to leave the android body he'd been provided. Hadn't even been allowed to _kill_.

The worst was that he hadn't been unhappy.

It was the closest he and the Doctor had ever come to travelling together. Might have worked better, of course, had he actually been allowed to leave his TARDIS – except, it most likely wouldn't have, would it?

They'd spent a lot of time together, nonetheless. Something about the Doctor's sense for adventure had been considerably stifled by the war going on. They'd spent a lot of time just floating in the vortex and floating inside, too, curled up together, exploring what exactly an android could feel and what not.

He'd, eventually, left that version of him behind when the Doctor had left behind his own. It had been an unspoken pact. The Doctor had regenerated and the Master had held him through it all, had felt the energy of it tickle his android nerves, had had power at his grasp – and let it go, returned to oblivion, waiting for the Time Lords to revive him for his role in the war he knew he was going to have to play.

When they'd finally met again, they had been different people. Their island had sunken.

He didn't look back onto these days often. These memories belonged to a different person and that Doctor wasn't here anymore, either.

But recently, with the Doctor punching, shoving, biting, and gnarling her teeth at him, he couldn't help but get _thinking_.

He needed someone to talk. He needed someone to understand. So if he just took one of her most recent but peaceful personalities... uploaded them into a tiny little android of his own... just kept his own personal Doctor around...?

Who exactly would stop him?

_All Time Lords were dead, the Doctor never bothered to look his as long, all Time Lords were dead, he could just sneak back into their ruins and pull out of the Matrix that he was still able to save, all Time Lords were dead and she would never know..._

And so the Master got to building.

  
He had to hand it to the Doctor – This was no easy task and she'd done it to perfection, back then. The Master adored mechanics and building and devising though and he adored a challenge and so he kept his entire energy focused on this, working as hard as he could.

He did want her to be perfect. He should do it like her, probably, and base his Doctor-droid loosely on a past incarnation, but not too much. Give her silly question marks. Maybe a colourful scarf. Just don't make her too much...

Okay, she looked exactly like her. He'd even given her the stupid ear cuffs. The only thing slightly jarring were here eyes. He'd had been forced to steal another person's eyes and no matter how beautiful they were, how similar they looked, they weren't quite the Doctor's. There wasn't the same expression in those hazels, that terrifying force, the calculation, the deep, untouched sadness, the intelligence, ~~the kindness and warmth and unending joy~~.

“Well, okay. That's why you didn't try to replicate an exact Master, huh?” he muttered to the android. Tapped her head a little. Sounded more hollow than it was going to be, but that was fine.

He could always tease her about it.

  
The next part was the tricky one. The second explosion had left Gallifrey in even more shambles than it'd been on before. He was walking through the ruins, ashes whirling up to his face, trying his very hardest not to think or look at them too directly.

Whatever he'd told the Doctor that day, about sneaking around with her through the familiar streets, about anything, really, some of the chaos he had left his home planet behind in still left him feeling absolutely terrified.

In awe, yes, but terrified of what he had finally done. The one step too far he could never take back.

The one step over the edge, falling away from the Doctor.

“Would it mean something if I told you I'm sorry?” he asked to the android he currently carried under one of his arms. “Would you even believe it?”

He looked around the debris of their childhood home.

“I'm not sure I am, though. If I am, it's for me, not them.”

The Master sighed.

She didn't even have a soul yet and he'd already started telling her things he'd never be able to tell the real Doctor.

  
The Doctor had left the Matrix completely torn apart and it was still healing itself when the Master arrived. Jumping in now was risky – No guarantee that he wouldn't get lost inside, that he would find his way out again.

He didn't care much. If he got trapped inside, he'd have an eternity to find the Doctor inside and be with them. It didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered.

He set down the android and gave her an awkward pat on the shoulder.

“See you in a bit,” he murmured. “Maybe.”

And then he jumped in.

  
Dark, with grey mist floating around him. If there was such a thing as cold in the Matrix, he'd be cold now. All of this looked like the visual manifestation of cold.

“Doctor!” he called, because he didn't know what else to do. He'd been in here, a while ago, years ago, to find himself and instead found a past so sinister, it tore his world into two.

Now he was looking for the one person who could patch it up again.

“Doctor!”

There was more mist coming up, engulfing him and the Master, despite having no real physical form in here, shivered.

“Doctor.” His voice was no more than a whisper now, a quiet prayer, swallowed by the darkness surrounding him. “I need you.”

“Should've just started off with that,” a familiar voice came from behind him.

When he turned around, there stood the Doctor's pinstripe wearing regeneration, hands in his trouser pockets, coat floating behind him in dramatic fashion. But on his face was a goofy, crooked grin.

“Hello there. Look at you! All...” He waved his hand up and down. “... Well, you got a beard again.”

“That I do,” he muttered. “Are there more of you here?”

The Doctor frowned. “Oh, I'm not enough, am I?”

Suppressing the urge to roll his eyes, the Master quickly looked around.

“I've got an offer I need all of you to hear.”

“Not everyone's ready to follow your calls anymore,” the Doctor shrugged. “And we tend not to hang out together. Everyone's so loud. And a bit over the top. I don't like watching my past midlife crises.”

The Master couldn't help the little snort escaping him.

“Yeah, well, now you know what I'd had to put up with.”  
  
The Doctor grinned.

“I bet you'd get along wonderfully with your past incarnations, self-absorbed as you are.”

Before the Master could stop it, images filled out the darkness, images from his own memories, flashing up, glaring all around them. Missy, crying, on the moss, blood still freshly on her hands from where she'd stabbed her past, his manic laughter, his promises that she wouldn't regenerate, empty eyes, regenerations, both of them.

Blackness.

The Doctor's grin fell off his face.

“Or not,” he added darkly. “I'll see if I can find them.”

“Wait-” the Master called, but the Doctor had already disappeared with a puff, leaving him behind alone again, standing in the misty dark, back to shivering.

  
He'd wrapped both arms up in front of his chest when, with another puff he was sure was only added by them for dramatics, a whole bunch of past Doctors appeared before him, led by the pinstripe one.

There was frills and velvet – aw, man, it's been way too long since he'd seen that one -, there was the celery and cricket one, the one with the recorder, the one with the locks who'd been in the war, the one wearing nothing but a leather jacket, the other one wearing nothing but a leather jacket, the childish bow-tie one and the one with the eyebrows. Even Rainbow Clown the First had come.

But the Master only needed one swift look to see which ones were missing and it made his hearts ache.

 _He_ hadn't come. Of course he hadn't come. He hadn't expected him to. Just, he'd have liked it, if he was being honest. To give this empty shell of his Doctor, standing outside, Theta's soul.

Pinstripe seemed to read his mind, his brown eyes softening.

“Sorry. He's still a bit grumpy, you know how teenagers are. Almost hit me with his cane when I wouldn't stop pestering him.”

The Master forced himself to look cheerful.

“That's fine. I don't really care,” he lied.

The one with the scarf was missing too, unsurprisingly – That one really had no care in the world. And the one with the question mark umbrella, though the Master had always been a little afraid of that one, so that was quite alright with him.

All in all, an admirable number. More Doctors than he'd expected.

He tried not to think about the aching sting in his hearts left there by Theta not coming to meet him.

“So what's that offer?” the Clown asked, arms folded before his chest in open disdain. “I'm only here because I'm curious what it is you're planning now, just so we're clear,” he added, because he always had to add something, didn't he?

The Master rolled his eyes, this time not hiding it.

“Yes, well, I know some of you will be bored shitless in here. And annoyed. By one another, mostly. And who can blame you...”

“Well, just to tell you,” the frills and velvet version called out loudly, interrupting him, because of course he did. “Your versions in here are not less annoying.”

The Master's lips twitched into a badly suppressed smile.

“Hanging out a lot, are you?” he asked, eyes glittering and the Doctor harrumphed, but didn't say anything to deny it.

 _Good_.

“Well, I'm building an android. A Doc-droid, if you will. I'm offering for one of you to come back out and play a little.”

“In an android shell you built?” a quiet voice came from the left. The Master turned to the cricket loving fool. Wearing vegetables, long blond hair, bit of a curious look on his face, paired with a lot of mistrust. He did have some qualities reminding him of his current Doctor.

“Highly unlikely.”

“Yeah, seems a bit risky,” the Doctor's second incarnation added. “Rassilon knows what restrictions you'll give us.”

“Rassilon doesn't know anything, actually,” the Master smirked. “Not anymore, he doesn't. Other than how to _obey_.”

All the Doctors around him exchanged an uneasy look.

Oh, _alright_ then. It's not like they had anyone left to tell. It's not like the real Doctor would ever know.

“I'm alone,” he babbled, before he could stop himself. “I'm alone and your most recent incarnation is off who-knows-where, leaving me that way. I cannot sleep. I can barely bring myself to get up the floor anymore. I need someone. And I don't know if either of you ever noticed – But there's only one someone for me. So if you're not coming, tell me now and I'll trash that... that... I'll trash it and I'll go to sleep.”

To stay here with you.

They exchanged another look, this time the uneasiness replaced by something the Master could not read.

Some of them shrugged, some nodded, some looked sceptical and the Master's hearts beat in wild hope.

Pinstripe stepped forward.

The Master raised an eyebrow.

“I didn't want to go yet,” the Doctor muttered. “I wasn't ready. I had barely started. Had felt so alone most of the times.”

He gave the Master a crooked smirk.

“So I get it. I really do. And maybe we can fix that, together? None of us being alone anymore?”

The Master swallowed, hard.

It could work, he supposed. From all her past incarnations, this one came closest to the one she was now. He was a bit more needy, a bit more emotional and open about it, but that was only good, right? Served his purposes just fine.

He nodded.

“Yeah, that's... yeah.”

He'd felt alone. He'd felt as alone as he did now, with the same burden to carry.

And he'd abandoned him.

Against his will, the scene replayed all around them, sudden and painful and glaring. The Doctor, weeping over his dying body, begging him to regenerate. And the Master announcing he'd won.

God, he'd been such an idiot. He had been so close to everything he'd ever needed and like an idiot, he'd kicked it away for his pride.

He hadn't much pride left, now.

The Doctor's brown eyes were pinned to the memories surrounding them.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Not our proudest moment, huh?”

Maybe he really could read his mind. Who knew what was possible in this Matrix.

The Master held out his hand.

The Doctor, after only a moment of hesitation, took it.

Another difference between them that he welcomed.

He threw another glance into the crowd of Doctors, watching them warily, some of them smiling.

“Thanks for coming.” He had meant to speak loud, but his voice broke. They still heard him.

One by one, they gave him a smile and a nod, before disappearing back to where they had come from. It was good though, knowing that if one day he'd come here, he'd actually have someone left to greet him.

He turned back to the Doctor's brown puppy eyes, currently watching him curiously.

“Let's go.”

Squeezing the Doctor's hand just once, he pulled both of them out of the Matrix. It was as easy as looming. With only one body on the whole planet available, the Doctor's mind latched onto it and within seconds, the pretty, jarringly wrong hazel eyes fluttered open.

She looked around in confusion, first dusty, torn apart room, the still-healing Matrix, the Master in the middle of it all, then she looked down her own body.

“Hey,” she called out. “That's not... quite what I imagined!”

The Master smirked.

“Sorry. I had... a quite specific need.”

The Doctor lifted a hand to his hair, pulling a few blond strands into his sight and let out a heavy sigh.

“Still not ginger.”


End file.
